


In The Midst of it All

by NeonFinch



Category: Room of Swords (Webcomic)
Genre: Fluff, Hugs, Love, M/M, Romance, Soulmates, Trust, headcanons, omg yes pls, strawbarrow - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-15
Updated: 2020-05-15
Packaged: 2021-03-03 01:14:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,305
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24206521
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NeonFinch/pseuds/NeonFinch
Summary: Gyrus second guesses his purpose in the Room of Swords--has he always been the murderer he was in his past iteration? Is it worth it to change? Desperate for at least one soul to believe in him, he visits the Black Box, searching for validation and solace. Kodya, still separated from mind and body, will be waiting, trying to put Gyrus back together.
Relationships: Gyrus Axelei/Kodya Karevic, strawbarrow
Comments: 3
Kudos: 39





	In The Midst of it All

Sometimes, every once in a while, everyone goes through a crisis. World crisis, self crisis, whatever. Be it a crisis where I never figured out who I was meant to be, or I waited too late to find out—I know that my life, ultimately, is without consequence. So, in a way, I feel free to go down whatever path it is that I’m on, cause in the end, the only things I left behind are a carbon footprint and a memory of the people I loved.

Somehow, I’m okay with that.

Maybe this was my “dud” life, you know? Maybe in another life I was better to myself and others, or I actually did what I needed to do—but not in this one. This life is without consequence in the most peculiar of ways.

Time is the only thing that surpasses all else. Money, fame, family, all of it—it all goes away, and fades into time. With enough of it, nothing really matters. If you own time, you own the universe. Thankfully, we have enough of that around here.

Sometimes it goes by quickly. Days where I tinkered with old broken machines or did studies for new ones—those days go by pretty fast. There are other days though that seemed to drag on, being kept in my room. It’s the only place here in the Room of Swords that I could inhabit without feeling too guilty. Would time ever be able to heal the rift I put between Kodya, Tori, Sylvia and I? I didn’t mean to lose it when they were trying to reset me, something just came over me. Dark and cold. The shadows were gaining ground, and I seemed powerless to stop it.

Maybe this is what I was supposed to be all along? Why should I try to change it?

It doesn’t help that not a soul here believes in me. Kodya’s spirit is still trapped in the Black Box, and even in there he’s not entirely sure I can put him back together again. Tori and Sylvia still walked around with those damned armbands, the ones I designed. They keep a distance from me, and it kills me. Loneliness doesn’t even cover the emptiness I feel inside me—it’s much bigger than that. It’s a gnawing feeling that pulls at my will to even get out of bed.

How much time do I have to pass until I can come up with a plan to get us out of this? How long until I can prove to everyone that I only want what everyone wants—and the only way to get it is to forsake both Don and the shadows? Two powerful forces that would definitely push back if challenged.

I stare at the ceiling of the dim room, and close my eyes, trying to pull down the now rapid breathing in my chest. I can figure this out. I just need a little time to think. With slow, deep breaths, I search for the Black Box in my mind, maybe just hoping to catch a glimpse of Kodya and older me. Maybe we could figure it out.

_“Imagine you’re backing into a dark tunnel… farther and farther, until everything fades away…”_

Time seems to pass a little more slowly now—and the hazy green lights of the box become a little brighter. In the corner of the hallway, I notice a stripe of blue; Kodya’s jacket peeking into a memory room. Approaching with light footsteps, I stop behind him, trying to see the memory he’s watching—and I freeze.

It’s the night the two of us finally spent some time alone together. The night older me confided in him about almost everything—but not all of it. Though I didn’t live this memory, I still feel it in my gut.

“Hey! Breathe, Gyrus!” Kodya’s voice comes from beside my body, pushing my shoulder repeatedly. I’m slouched against the wall of his bedroom, but my mind was in the Black Box. Somehow he pulls me from the trance, and his hand is in mine, clutching it tightly. “Gyrus, are you with me, now?” The way he’s holding me… this was more than support. And I feel guilty for it now.

The Kodya in front of me, with his head on the memory door frame doesn’t turn, but just breathes shakily, “It’s sort of crazy, right? Seeing your old memories, even thought that isn’t really you anymore? But it sure as hell is still me… or, was.” His shoulders sag a little. “черт.”

I blink, taking a step back. Is this what he did while he was waiting for me to put him together again? Only watch memories about the old me? It’s not like there was much else for him to do in here… but, what about the us now? “H-hey, Kodya.” Crazy? None of this really is that crazy. It wouldn’t surprise me that my old self had a soft spot for Kodya. He was my apprentice, and he stayed by my side regardless of how homicidal old me got. He healed me, he listened, and he did what he could, even if I never told him everything. I should have told him everything! Would we even be in this position now if I had?

Should I be feeling this way about him now? In this iteration, we’re friends. He’s my mentor, and I got him killed. Like I had, he’s keeping me at arm’s length, and for good reason—I’d hurt him beyond what I could ever hope to repair. Dying isn’t everything, but, ripping his heart from his chest when I turned on everyone, is. I'd bet that he’d stuck with me through that too, if it hadn’t been part of the plan.

I can’t imagine what he had to go through, slicing my throat. And then, coming back into that godforsaken realm to find me. What would Kodya not go through for me? Did he believe in me that much? Even in killing old me, it was his gift to me. A gift of waking up and figuring out what had to be done in this iteration. Even after all of it, why can’t I help but feel this gravitational force towards him?

“Kodya… how many times did you have …to reset me? How many do you remember?” I breathe, looking at his hair and how much it’d grown since the memory.

He turns, wiping his nose on his sleeve—it’s obvious he’s been crying. “How many times?” He thinks, his steely demeanor bubbling back up to the surface, even though his eyes are still puffy. “Just the one.”

“Oh.”

So these memories… these are fresh. How is he so good at moving on? If it had only been two years ago that we were… us, how did he go from before to… this? It makes it all so complicated, really. It’s over my head. 

“’Oh,’ heh?” He smirks, knowing where I was headed. “Black Box you is pretty obsessed with me, you know? I figured he’d never forgive me.”

“For killing him?”

“Yeah. The one person he thought would never throw a wrench into his plans… guess it was for the better.”

The better? You’re dead! “I guess—”

“I like us better this way,” he breathes, scratching the back of his head. “I mean, I like you being younger now and all. Makes it harder to look up to you,” he laughs. He puts a palm on my shoulder, smirking. “I still think a lot of you though, kid.”

The pet name. The same one I'd given him before… it only seems fitting now that he was using it on me. Why do I… almost feel… disappointed? “It's pretty amazing seeing you last time and you now, you know? Even though you can see those memories he had, you never had them yourself.” He thinks a moment, shutting the door on the memory, “But you know,” he starts, leaning against the now closed door, hair over his brow, “you don’t have to be like him. I mean, sure, you have to know what happened before, but, kid, your choices can be your own.”

There’s a bit of conviction in his voice, and it stings a little. Is he asking me to come back to him?

“Kodya… I… I’m so sorry.” I feel my voice breaking. “I’m sorry I put you through all of this. How are you still here, with me? How are you still so forgiving and supportive of me? I… I got you killed!” I step back from him. “I just… I can’t manage this. I know what the old us had, but what are we now? Should I love you like I did? Should I just betray all of that for your sake? I just… ugh, this is so complicat—”

Kodya’s expression changes to worry, and he wraps me into a tight hug, my face buried in his collarbone. “Kid, breathe.” His soothing voice vibrates in his chest, “You’re okay. Just breathe a moment.”

I concede, and a shaky breath leaves me, my mind going a mile a minute. I try to calm it, trying to focus on his heartbeat, but I find none. _Figures._ That only made sense—as he’s not even whole. “Kodya—”

“I said, ‘успокаивать,’ kid.” He pulls out of the hug and looks down at me, smirking. “You do whatever your heart tells you, okay? You’ve got one of the biggest hearts I’ve ever known, even to the point of being stubborn. You’ll make the right choices.” His blue eyes search mine, and I realize, he’s still hiding something. Is he still not sure of me? Why would he be?

“Kid, I… I don’t want you to worry about me. The way we are now, it is what it is. Maybe sometime in the future things will be different, but right now… we can’t even think about that sort of thing.” His voice is pained. How hard is this for him, really?

“Do you trust me, now?” Really, it’s all that I needed to know. If he trusted me, then maybe I could get through this. Maybe it would be worth it.

He chuckles lightly, corner of his lips upturning in a smile. “Kid, I’ve always trusted you. That’s just how it is. I can’t help it. I like to think it’s the way it’ll always be.” His smile fades for a moment as he thinks, something in him breaking. “You know, there was a poem I loved in my time, and I think it fits, so… let me try to remember it all…” He breathes, taking my hand in his, “Я вас любил: любовь еще, быть может, В душе моей угасла не совсем;” ( _I loved you: love, perhaps, in my soul, has not completely died out;)_

The sound of it makes me shudder. It’s so deep and passionate… and sad. I should shrink away from this, but I can’t pull away—his hands around mine keep me grounded. This is as plain as he’d ever been with me… I didn’t need to understand it verbatim to understand the significance of the words. I understood a little, including the word “love”… but why is it so sad? His blue eyes are soft on mine, and no blush appears on his cheeks—it’s not necessary.

“Но пусть она вас больше не тревожит; Я не хочу печалить вас ничем.” ( _But let it no longer bother you; I don't want to sadden you with anything.)_

This, this is what mattered. Had he always been like this? Always been this… genuine? In a way, I knew he had. He played up being tough, but just beneath the surface, he had this breadth of love and warmth—and it’s everything I need right now. Is it wrong to soak it in? I don’t deserve it…

I nod at him, looking down at my palm in his. “Thank you, Kodya.”

He nods back, patting me on the back as he pulls me into another hug, “No problem, kid. We’ll get through this. We will.”

Eventually, I had to return from the Black Box. Even then, I now feel the pressure of Kodya on my chest, pushing me forward. Time is all we have, but maybe there is something a little more than that.

\--

It’s almost every night that I see him, now. As soon as the Room of Swords settles down for the night, I find myself in my room, staring at the ceiling, just waiting to go back, reassuring myself that he’s still there… I crave his approval—just someone to believe in me, just one person. If that’s all I can get, then so be it.

We sit in the hallway of the ship, backs against the wall. Sometimes we ran out of things to talk about, or hit a nerve on one another that made it uncomfortable to talk anymore. It seemed I did that to him often. But, tonight, he breaks the silence for once. 

“What was it like, in your time?” Kodya breathes, staring across the hallway. He’d taken his hair down tonight, and it almost fell in waves to his shoulders. I try not to stare, only noticing the single blonde streak in his bangs across his eyes. No matter how long it had gotten, that didn’t change.

The question, so simple, takes me off guard. “Uh… heh. You mean on Earth?” I hold my metal fingers in my real ones, looking over at him. “In year 2564, huh?” I’m slowly getting used to having the prosthetic, even though I can feel phantom pains in it from time to time.

He gives a chuckle, watching me flex and unflex my fingers, “Yeah. That’s like 800 years after when I got pulled. I want to know what people came up with.”

I swallow. _Hm._ “Well, I spent most of my life in school before I ran off to be with Captain Iro's fleet. It was a lot of long nights and studying, but I remember my family more than anything. We actually didn't live on Earth the whole time.”

Kodya looks at me sideways, “You… left? The Earth? Like, in a ship?”

I laugh lightly now, “Yeah. When I was 5, the Earth… well, got destroyed. Heh.” It was a ticking time bomb anyways—but even then I couldn’t shake the feeling in my gut when we left all those people behind…

He’s frozen, a nervous sweat on his brow. “You mean… its… gone?” He’s peeled away from me a moment, his large stature leaning fully against the wall. “I… wow.”

I nod, scratching the back of my head nervously, “But it’s okay! We found other places to live, you know? By that time, we were able to colonize different planets and make lives there, too. So, losing Earth wasn’t ideal, but it was something we had to give up… for the better of everything.” 

Kodya nods back, swallowing. “T-tell me about your family, maybe, then?” He’s actually pretty shaken by this. I lean to him, and hold his hand in mine, trying to reassure him. He looks at it, relaxing a little. He squeezes my fingers, and rubs a thumb over the back of my hand, a soft, slow thing. I don't deserve this, but I'll take advantage of it anyways.

“Really, it was okay. Earth was dying anyways. Also, sure.” I steel myself, trying to remember. There’s so much in the Black Box I don't understand still—things caught here and there, like the discrepancy between Captain Iro and Don. I understand why it happened but untangling all the connections is still fuzzy. “I… remember my mom mostly. She had this way about her—she was strong and kind… she didn't take any shit. I remember several times where I’d gotten into something that I shouldn’t have, and got a beating and a half for it.” I sigh, “She kept me on the straight and narrow, for sure.”

“Sounds like it was good for you.” Kodya chuckles, blue eyes peeking at me from the side, “She raised a good son.” His gaze lingers on mine a moment, and I can’t help but feel a blush grow on my cheeks—not in embarrassment, but in guilt. Does he really think that? “You make me want to meet her, you know? Just to see what kind of parent raised a dorky smartass like yourself.” His chest huffs with a chuckle. “What else?”

I look at my palms and push down the negativity inside of me. “Gah, she made the _best_ mandu dumplings. Oli makes them pretty well, but I don't think they can beat my mom's.” I sigh.

Kodya sighs in agreement. “Ah, da. I miss the food so much. Varenniki was my _favorite._ I can’t remember all the ingredients, but once I do… gah. They’re these little dumplings with cabbage and meat and cheese and something else… augh,”

I can’t help but stifle a laugh. With his head pressed against the wall and his eyes closed peacefully towards the ceiling, I notice the curve of his neck and jaw as he speaks, the warmth of daydreaming of food reverberating from him.

“Don’t drool on yourself over there,” I grin. Though, I would have to keep myself from doing the same after staring at him so long…

“Can’t help it,” he groans. “Ugh, I love food.”

I wince, suddenly remembering where we are. “You’ll get some again, I promise. I swear the moment we get you back… I’ll help you cook whatever you want.”

Kodya pauses, head lifting from the wall to turn towards me, “That'd be awesome.” He leans in towards me, taking my face in his warm palms, eyes flicking over mine, “I told you we'd get through this. Stop second guessing yourself, kid.”

I'm frozen. Why are his palms so warm? If he doesn't have his body, then how is he warm? Or is it my cheeks in his hands that are on fire? Something is off… “Kodya, you keep telling me you believe in me but I can't help but think--!”

Too late, I realize, his lips are pressed against mine. I should pull away. I should stop him, but I don’t. Instead, my eyes flood with tears, and I only hug him tighter. He cradles me in his arms, and I realize he’s shaking. “Kodya—”

“No. You don’t get to talk,” he breathes, pressing his lips against my forehead. “For once in your life, just shut up, Gyrus.” _My name. Not, “kid.” Me._

We sit there in the embrace of one another, and I’ve never felt this… vulnerable. Ever. Like he was seeing through my façade, and just seeing me as a human person. Is this why I loved him before?

“You are perfect, to me, okay?” Kodya breathes, hugging me. “No matter what iteration, what time, who you are… Gyrus, your soul, your человек… it speaks to me. I know you may not feel it like you did before, but… this is how it is. No matter what, I will always find you. I will be whatever you need me to be—student, mentor, friend, lover… Gyrus, I’m yours, and you know that you’re mine. Don’t you feel that?”

It’s like he’s begging me. And I can’t lie anymore. “I feel it, Kodya.”

“Good,” he whimpers, sobbing into my shoulder. “Gyrus, you can do this. I believe you with everything that I have left.”

And now, I know why I’m doing all this. It’s about saving everyone, but also, saving Kodya. The one person who pulls on me more than anyone. “I… I love you, Kodya.” I choke, not letting go. I can’t let him see me ugly cry like this.

“I love you too, Gyrus. Forever and always.”


End file.
